


My Saving Grace

by ThatWheelchairChick



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Angst, Child Loss, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Slow Burn, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28478910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWheelchairChick/pseuds/ThatWheelchairChick
Summary: When Rory's dance goes horribly wrong and Dean rapes her, she's got to figure out how to live again. And with a baby now on the way, she has some big decisions to make. Luckily, she finds support in an unlikely place.
Relationships: Luke Danes/Lorelai Gilmore, Tristan Dugray/Rory Gilmore
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to start with a big fat trigger warning for graphic rape, teen pregnancy, discussion of suicide and child loss. If any of these topics are a problem for you, don't read on.
> 
> Now I've done that, I'm going to reveal that this story is fully completed – it took me 25 days to write 24 chapters (not particularly in order), alongside writing my other chapter story, Piece by Piece. That's pretty impressive for an amateur writer, if you ask me, especially since it's also the first chapter story that I've ever completed.
> 
> The only reason I haven't started to post this is because I didn't have a name, and I have only just decided on the name 'My Saving Grace'. The name 'Grace' is significant throughout the story but that was purely coincidental as I actually forgot about Grace. I just wanted to add that they are not technically linked.
> 
> I will be publishing one chapter per week, on every Friday with almost no exception, unless I'm in hospital, because that is a possibility with my history. I hope you love this story as much as I do, and a big, premature, thank you for reading.

We were looking at the photos of Miss Patty when he suddenly kissed me. It was harder than our previous kisses, and I was unsure about the change. However, I went with it because I knew that I didn't like change and I could actually like it.

And then he slid one of his hands down from my neck and over my breast. I pulled away, "Not yet, I'm not ready for that."

He nodded before kissing me again, his hand back where it was. But it travelled again, and when I tried to push him away, he held me tighter. I didn't like where this was going, and I pushed again, trying to say 'stop' against his lips. I had a horrible feeling about where this was going, and I couldn't stop him.

He stopped kissing me, but he instead tried to drag me over to the beanbag. I fought him, but when he shoved me to the floor and started kicking me towards the beanbag, I stopped fighting since it seemed to hurt more. I wanted to scream, and I knew that I should, but it was almost like I physically couldn't do it. I quietly begged him to stop, unable to raise my voice above a whisper.

With one hand, he held me down, and he ripped my tights with the other, shoving my dress up. I then noticed the large bulge in his pants, and he smirked at me, "See, I knew you'd like this."

I felt sick and started chanting no, starting to kick him. He knelt down on my legs, pinning them down. He then undid his pants, letting his large member spring loose. He roughly shoved my underwear aside and spit onto the shaft before shoving himself inside me.

The pain was unimaginable, and I writhed underneath him, trying to get away. I finally found the ability to scream, like something clicked inside of me, and I shouted for help as loud as I could. His hands were pinning my arms down so he couldn't stop me, but he didn't stop either, thrusting into me, over and over.

"Please," I begged, "Help me."

Hot tears streamed down my face, and I closed my eyes, unable to look anymore. He suddenly let go of my arm and hit me, hard, commanding me to open my eyes. He then bent down and whispered in my ear, "Not so much of a Mary anymore, are you?"

I let out another scream, begging somebody to help – I just needed someone to hear me because I was struggling to breathe, and I couldn't keep this up. It was then that I heard footsteps, heavy ones. I screamed again, hoping the sound would help lead them to me, and it did. Dean was dragged off of me, and I automatically curled up into a ball trying to cover and protect myself.

I could hear sounds, of footsteps and fighting, and after a few moments, I heard Luke shouting for someone to call 911. The sounds and feelings were dimming, but I felt Luke kneel down beside me and wipe away the tear on my cheek, "You're going to be okay, Rory, he won't hurt you again."

* * *

I awoke in a hospital bed, with Mom asleep at my bedside.

"Mommy?" I asked, but my voice came out in more of a rasp than I expected.

Her head shot up, and she looked at me, wide-eyed, "Rory, you're awake."

She sounded so relieved, and she immediately started crying. Then another person spoke up, "I'll go and get the doctor."

"Thanks, Luke," Mom practically choked out, wiping her cheeks and looking at me, "How do you feel?"

"I ache everywhere," I said, tears slipping down my own cheeks, "I'm guessing that it wasn't a nightmare, then."

Mom looked at me sadly, "I'm sorry I didn't keep you safe; he seemed like a good kid and... I'm so sorry."

The doctor came in then and did a few tests, and then started to tell me what had happened, "You needed surgery to repair internal bleeding, presumably caused by repetitive kicking. You also had a punctured lung that needed a surgical repair, but you should be fine. You needed stitches due to vaginal tearing, but they will dissolve on their own. We did a rape kit and took DNA from the believed culprit, and it matched, so he will be going to prison. You will never have to see him again."

I nodded, almost in shock. I knew that he had raped me, but... Tears streamed down my face as I thanked the doctor, and he smiled softly at me before leaving. I swallowed loudly, "How long have I been out?"

"Three days," Mom admitted, "They said that it was likely that you weren't ready to wake up since nothing was causing you to be unconscious."

I hesitated before asking my next question, "How likely is it that I am pregnant?"

"Because you were unconscious, they couldn't give you the morning-after pill without consent, and it's been too long now. He had just finished when they found you, so there's a possibility."

"I feel sick," I told her, and she handed me a sick bowl, pulling my hair back. She murmured comforting words to me as I retched, but very little came up. When I was finished, I sat back, exhausted, "I don't know if I can do this."

"I know you can," Mom said, "You're a Gilmore, and Gilmores can do anything."

I shook my head, "I don't think so. I can't..."

My chest was tight, and the machines around me were going haywire. I held onto Mom's hand, struggling to breathe as the panic overwhelmed me. Doctors and nurses flooded the room, putting on an oxygen mask and pushing medications to calm me down. It took a few minutes, but I did calm down. I didn't stop crying, though, and the fear didn't go away.

"Mommy, I'm scared," I said as the room emptied and Luke came in, holding a coffee cup for Mom.

"Me too, kid," She said softly, tears also pouring down her face. I looked up at Luke, who looked as worried as Mom did, with his hand on her back, and I almost wanted to smile – apparently, something good had possibly come out of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 is done and dusted. I hope this was a good first chapter, and I hope that you will review. I know I may not need the motivation to write, but the continued motivation to post is greatly appreciated. Thanks


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: A big thank you for the reviews I received on the first chapter, I hope you continue reading and enjoying this story. Oh and I'm uploading this at midnight because I'm impatient.

I returned to school a week later, and I felt like everybody's eyes were on me. I know that the school had been informed about the situation, but only the teachers knew. I went to my locker to get what I needed, and someone immediately joined me, "Hey Mary, where've you been?"

"None of your business," I told him, but I knew my voice lacked what it usually had – I flinched when he called me Mary and I couldn't pretend that I was okay after that. And I was internally panicking because every teenage boy seemed to wear his face and I was terrified.

"I'm wounded," Tristan joked, his face changing when he saw mine, "Someone saw you in the hospital, and you have a black eye."

"Actually, it's a yellow eye," I corrected, but I really wanted to say 'you should see my thighs' because those were still black.

"Mary, what happened?" He asked softly, and I rolled my eyes, ignoring the involuntary flinch that came with him calling me 'Mary'. I didn't need his pity.

"Excuse me, I can't be late after a week off," I told him. As I moved past him, our shoulders brushed, making me feel sick.

I sat down in class and tried to conceal the fact I was shaking. There were a few glances in my direction from the other students and Mr Medina, but I instead focused on my notes; I couldn't afford to fail because of this.

The lesson was long, and by the time it ended, I needed out of there. My chest was feeling tight again, and I knew I had a panic attack coming on. Unfortunately, Mr Medina asked me to stay behind, probably wanting to give me some notes so I wouldn't fall too far behind.

The moment the class was empty, he told me to focus on breathing. I glared at him; I didn't need this. I needed to get away from him. I somehow managed to slow my breathing enough for him to give me the notes, but the moment they were in my hands, I was out of there and hunting for an empty room.

I found an unused classroom and walked in, almost immediately falling to the floor and sitting with my back against the wall and facing the door. I needed to be able to see most entrances and exits to keep myself calm, and that was hard enough as it was. I let the tears flow, and I rocked myself as I fought for breath. I didn't get hospital drugs now, and I needed to calm myself.

"Mary?" I looked up to see Tristan in the doorway, my whole body flinching at the name. He shut the door and kneeled before me.

"Please don't touch me," I begged him as he went to put his hands on me and he pulled them back.

"Is it okay if I sit here with you?" He asked, and despite my brain saying no, I nodded anyway. He shifted, so he was sitting next to me, making sure he wasn't touching me. He wasn't watching me like usual, and he seemed happy to sit quietly.

Once I had calmed myself down, I looked at him, "Thank you."

He nodded, "I'm here if you need me, even if it's just to sit with you."

"I appreciate that," I said, "I'm guessing you have an idea of what happened."

"You're still a Mary," He said softly, "He can't change that."

I nodded as I gathered myself up off the floor, "Thank you."

* * *

I didn't have lunch that day. There wasn't a way for me to see both entrances at once, and the big crowd terrified me. So, I skipped lunch and went straight to the library, finding a quiet spot to read while feeling safe. Or, as safe as I could possibly feel.

"Rory?" I looked up, finding Paris looking at me.

"What?" I asked, returning to my book. I didn't want to deal with her today, but putting it off would probably only make it worse.

"I'm sorry," She said, "For what happened. I'm sorry."

"Did you do it?" I asked her sarcastically.

She swallowed, "I'm saying sorry because that's what you're supposed to do."

I sighed, "Thank you."

I stood up and brushed past her, needing out of there, my head feeling like it was about to explode. I felt someone's hand on me and I immediately told them to let go, not caring whether it was a teacher or not.

They let go but took the opportunity to step into my field of vision; Mr Medina. I guess it's better than a student.

He ushered me into the classroom I was next to and closed the door, "You may have come back too early."

I shook my head, frantically, "I'm fine. I just need people to stop bothering me and for..."

I needed to feel safe, but I couldn't say the words. I didn't really know what safe felt like before that night, but he took that away from me and now that I know how it feels to not feel safe, I couldn't seem to claw it back.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to comfort myself, but I couldn't. I couldn't make it better; I didn't know how. And as I started crying once again, I admitted that I needed my mom.

* * *

Mom drove us most of the way home without saying a word. She wasn't mad, but the more she spoke these days, the more I cried. But when she parked outside of Luke's, she pulled out her phone and dialled.

"Luke?" She asked, "Yeah, it's Lorelai; do me a favour and bring out two coffees to go and a piece of pie."

She paused as he spoke and then rolled her eyes, "I'm not going to leave Rory in the car, and you know how she's been about being anywhere other than the car and the house. So pretty please, bring out the coffee and pie," Another pause, "Thanks!"

I lifted my head, getting the courage to at least look around, and my stomach dropped as I saw him. He was walking with his mom, and he looked like crap. Both of his eyes were black, he had a broken nose and he was walking funny.

"Mom..."

She followed my line of sight, trying to figure out what I was staring at, and she got out of the car as Luke came out. He spotted what she was walking towards, her hands in fists, and followed, dropping the bag. I looked back down, not wanting to see how this played out, but unfortunately, I heard it.

"Lorelai, stop!" Luke commanded.

"He raped my daughter, and put her in the hospital for a week; like hell am I going to stop!"

There was a pause, and then came Taylor's loud voice, "Lorelai!"

I put my hands over my ears, not wanting to hear anymore. I had a feeling she had hit Dean, but I didn't want to know. I couldn't handle this; I wasn't strong enough.

I could hear loud voices and arguing, but my hands were enough to muffle the sounds enough so I couldn't figure out what was going on. After a few minutes, the sound levels went down, and the car door opened on Mom's side. I felt her hands prying my hands away from my ears, "It's okay, it's over."

"What happened?" I asked, "I thought he was in jail?"

"His parents bailed him out until his sentencing, but Taylor has just banished him from town – he has to leave by tomorrow morning. You won't have to see him again," She promised, even though she had already broken that promise.

"Can we go home?" I pleaded, my skin crawling, and she nodded, immediately jumping into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I didn't think about doing this, but I just want to say that I actually like Dean in the first season, even though he was never right for Rory. However, it worked more for my story to make it be Dean over anyone else. I hope you enjoyed this story and I really hope that you review. Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I just want to say that I'm making all of this up as I go. I'm not really researching this (I am researching things when it suits me but not other than that) so if anything is inaccurate, which it probably it, please ignore it for the sake of the story. Thank you

I woke up, my stomach churning. I looked at the clock and noted that it was 5:30, so not long until I needed to get up anyway. I slowly sat up, roughly wiping my damp cheeks. I then ran to the bathroom, unable to stop myself from being sick. I pulled my hair back while shoving up the lid of the toilet, violently retching.

When I finished, I flushed the toilet, put the lid down and sat down on it, heavily breathing. And then I stood up and brushed my teeth, needing to rid myself of the taste in my mouth, but that wasn't enough. I needed more.

So, I locked the bathroom door and got in the shower, scrubbing my body as hard as I could, desperate for some relief. And even though it didn't make me feel any less dirty, the pain was almost enough to make me a little bit better. Almost.

Once I was done, I left the bathroom, in search of my uniform. We were trying again because even though yesterday had failed, I couldn't miss any more school. I was half dressed when Mom came down the stairs, a chant of 'coffee' going under her breath. She poked her head in my open door and gasped as she noted my skin, "What happened?"

"I had the shower too hot," I lied but she brought it. I internally laughed, 'wow, I'm a walking cliché today, aren't I?'

"Do you want pop tarts or muffins for breakfast?" She asked me as I left my room.

"Not hungry, I'll just have coffee," I told her. My stomach had been iffy since the incident, and my passion for food had all but disappeared. I was eating more out of necessity than anything, but skipping one breakfast or two wouldn't make that much of a difference.

Mom narrowed her eyes at me but accepted it, "Just this once, kid. You need to eat."

"I know," I told her, "I'll have an extra big lunch."

* * *

When I got to my locker at school, I found a coffee inside it, piping hot. A post-it note was stuck to the cup, telling me exactly who it was from and making me cringe at the same time.

"Hey, Mary," He said softly as I took a sip, not one to waste good coffee.

"Can you stop calling me that? Please," I said it softly, and I was hoping he'd understand why.

"I'm sorry; of course," Tristan said, "Where did you disappear to yesterday?"

"Went home," I told him, "Couldn't do it."

"Oh," He sounded surprised but recovered quickly, "Well, you can borrow my notes if you'd like."

I said thanks before heading to class, binning the half-empty coffee cup. The first few lessons were easy to lose myself into, and pinching myself seemed to help me stay focused. I knew Paris picked up on it, but no one else seemed to.

After class, Paris cornered me, "Show me your arms."

"No thanks," I said, trying to push past her. I suddenly felt claustrophobic and needed out of the corner she had literally backed me into.

"Show me your arms, and I'll let you go," She said sternly, so I shoved up my sleeves, showing my mostly bare arms. Her face fell when she saw the yellow handprint on one of my arms, and I was suddenly grateful that the bruise on the other arm was higher up. I knew she was expecting cuts or something like that, but this was different.

"If you need somewhere to stay," She started to offer, and I shook my head.

"It wasn't my mom," I said, and I hoped it was obvious enough that she could figure it out – I couldn't say it, and I knew she'd bug me until she knew.

She swallowed, "It was that boy, wasn't it?"

I didn't confirm or deny, and I pushed past her, taking advantage of her distractedness. I rushed to class and managed to get into my seat just on time, even though I could feel a panic attack coming on.

I breathed slowly, practising what the hospital taught me, while pinching my skin to keep me focused. I needed to get through this – he doesn't get to take my education away from me. He has taken my virginity, my innocence and something else that I couldn't name, but he doesn't get that.

I caught Tristan's gaze, his eyes showing how worried he was, and it somehow centred me a little. Tristan wasn't Dean; every other teen boy had his face, but Tristan didn't. And maybe that was what I needed.

* * *

After class, it was lunchtime. I rushed out of class and went straight to my locker to sort my bag out. Tristan joined me, "Eat lunch with me."

"Excuse me?" I asked, and he smiled at me.

"Eat lunch with me. I'll keep you safe."

"Why are you being nice to me?" I asked him, "Before the dance, you seemed to hate me."

"I asked you to the dance," He pointed out, and I rolled my eyes.

"It felt like a prank," I admitted, "And this feels like pity."

He looked at me funny, "Normally, I'd kiss you at this point to prove otherwise, but I can't see that being a good idea. So, eat lunch with me."

"Back off, Tristan," I heard Paris say from behind him, "She's been through enough for this semester, go bother another girl."

"What's happening?" I questioned under my breath – both Tristan and Paris being nice at once? This has to be pity.

"I'm just being nice to her," He defended, "No expectations, just being a decent human. My third-grade tactic wasn't working, so I thought I'd try something else. And if it turns into more, it's a bonus."

Paris stepped around him, "Are you okay? You know, with him, because you're obviously not okay in general."

"I'm okay," I reassured her with a smile. Paris nodded and then walked away with Madeline and Louise following her like a pair of lackeys.

We walked to the lunch hall, and he pretty much shielded me from the bodies surrounding us. He helped me with my tray and led me to the table that I usually sat at, ensuring I could see one set of doors, "I'll keep an eye on the others, don't worry. Just eat."

I took a few mouthfuls, and then looked at him curiously, "How do you..."

I trailed off, unable to put it into words. But he smiled sadly, "My sister went through something similar a few years ago."

"I didn't know that you had a sister," I said in response, not knowing what to say to that revelation.

"Her name was Grace. She was a year older than me."

"Was?" I questioned; I had a bad feeling about it, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

He half-chuckled and shook his head, "She hung herself 6 months after it happened. She couldn't cope with it, and we didn't know how to help. And while I still don't know how to help, I will do everything I can to get you through this, even though it's not my place."

A single tear slipped down his cheek but my eyes flooded as they often did these days, "I'd hug you, but I'm not ready for that yet. And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me."

"You're welcome, Rory – if her story can help someone else, I'm going to share it. And when you're ready to share your story, I'll be right here."

"Thank you."

* * *

That night was the first Friday night dinner since the day before the dance. They had allowed us to have time off, Mom's words, but I knew they were desperate to see me. However, I couldn't get out of the car.

I had this problem with anywhere that wasn't home or school that I physically couldn't get myself out of the car, but since this was somewhere Dean hadn't been, I had hoped I would have managed it like I had with school (even though Dean had been there – I think I only managed it out of plain necessity). I did manage to open the door, but I didn't get any further, so I told Mom to go on and have dinner without me, who had marched up to the door and then dragged Grandma to the door.

"You cannot sit out here all night," Grandma told me, "Just come in for one drink, and then you can go home."

"I don't think that's going to make my body cooperate," I snapped and then burst into tears, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"How early can you get mood swings in pregnancy?" She wondered aloud and then covered her mouth with shock, "Rory, I didn't mean..."

"Three weeks," I informed her, cutting her off, "You can also get bloating and cramping from that point, but that's a whole week away if I am pregnant."

"Rory, I really am sorry," She said as Grandpa joined us.

"What's going on?" He asked, confused, and then looked at me, "Why are you still in the car?"

"It's a panic response," Mom explained, "The hospital shrink said that there are times her body may not cooperate with her as a trauma or fear response. If it helps, I also can't get her out of the car if we go anywhere that's not home or school, and I'm not about to force her."

They thought for a moment, and then spoke at the same time, "How can we make it easier for you?"

"The shrink said that while making accommodations can help, like enticing me with food, it's actually rare for it to work. I'll work through it on my own schedule but seeing a good shrink regularly can speed it along," I explained.

"And how often do you see this shrink?" Grandpa asked, and I looked at Mom, unsure of how to respond.

"We could afford the sessions she had in the hospital, but to actually see a shrink outside of emergency care is very expensive. We're trying to find a shrink that specialises in this that takes our insurance, but that's not going very well," Mom admitted, "I was thinking about asking for some help this evening as we've found a few that we like but can't afford, but we obviously haven't got indoors yet."

I didn't know that second part but went with it. Grandpa smiled, "We'll have the maid box up your dinners, and Lorelai; come by on Monday, and we'll help you make a decision."

They started to go back in, but Grandma turned around, "Did you ever get hold of Christopher?"

Mom nodded, "He's on a 3-week business trip according to him, but I don't buy that. When I told him, he said that he'll come and see her once he's home."

Grandma looked horrified, "That's ridiculous! Give me his number, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind!"

Lorelai shook her head, "Please don't. Last time one of us did that, he disappeared for a whole year."

Grandpa returned with the food, and Grandma turned to him, "Have you ever been on a 3-week business trip?"

"No, two weeks at max. Why?" He asked, a little confused.

"Christopher has insisted he's on one and apparently, he can't come back sooner, and he stuck to that even after he heard what had happened," She told him, clearly fuming.

"I'm going to give that man a piece of my mind!" He fumed, shoving the food into Mom's hands and storming inside, with Grandma following. The door shut behind them and I started giggling, with Mom joining in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: See, I told you I was making things up as I went! But either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review because it strokes my ego and makes me more likely to remember to post the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I just started chanting 'Chapter 4' in my head because I didn't know what to write here, and it ended up being in the tune of '64 Zoo Lane' and I had to tell someone, didn't I? Anyway, thank you for the previous reviews, and I hope you enjoy.

I got up a little early the next morning because I wanted to see if I could walk to the end of the driveway without freaking out, without having Mom's eyes on me, because that wasn't helping either.

I got quite close but didn't quite get there, the fear being too much. I ran back to the house, one hand on my chest and the other over my mouth. I sunk down to the floor in the doorway, trying to control my breathing, pinching my skin in the hopes it'll calm me down. I ran through a mantra of 'I'm safe' in my head, but I couldn't make myself believe it. It was like he had contaminated every part of my life and my town.

"Rory?"

I looked up, startled. It was Luke. He had a bag in his hand and two coffees, but he put them down on the ground, sitting with me. I could tell he wanted to touch me but was unsure of himself, "What happened?"

I shook my head, unable to explain. How could I admit that I didn't feel safe in my own home? He'd tell Mom, and then she'd feel guilty because she wasn't able to keep me safe, and it helps no one. I ignored the little voice that told me that not saying anything didn't help anyone either, but saying something would only make her feel worse.

"Do you want me to get your mom?" He asked, "Is she still in bed? Because I'll..."

He trailed off as I shook my head, desperate to not get her involved. He looked at me, his eyes soft. He didn't know what to do, but I could see that he wanted to help. We sat in silence for a minute, and my breathing started to stabilise, but Mom's sudden footsteps startled me. When she spotted us, she went to make some kind of witty comment, but she paused, unsure of herself. I hated that.

"Panic attack," He supplied, "I found her like this a few minutes ago."

I closed my eyes, hating the wave of shame that threatened to consume me. I felt Luke stand up, step over me and walk to Mom. They spoke quietly for a few moments, and I rested my head against the doorframe, trying to tune them out, and then Mom walked over to me, "Come on, let's get you up."

I wanted to protest and tell her that I wasn't a toddler that needed help, but I didn't have the energy for that. Instead, I opened my eyes, and went with it, letting her stabilise me and help me to my room, where I curled up on my bed and crashed back out, exhausted.

* * *

When I woke up, it was around midday, and I could hear Mom fussing in the kitchen, or I hoped it was my mom. I padded over to the door and peeked through the crack, making sure no one else was there. Luckily, it looked like she was going through the post, and she seemed to be alone. I opened the door a bit wider and spoke up, "Hey."

"Hey, kid," Mom said brightly, "How you feeling?"

"Better," I said, and it was the truth. I didn't feel better about it, but I did feel better than I did before I went to sleep, so that was something.

"Two people phoned for you; your dad and Bible Boy," She told me, a touch of anger in her voice when she said 'dad', "How does Bible Boy even have our number?"

"The Chilton directory is public to all students," I informed her, "And we've become friends."

She raised an eyebrow, shocked, "How?"

"What did dad want?" I asked, not really wanting to get into it. Mom sighed but let it slide for now.

"He wanted to tell us that his trip has been extended. I think that's bullshit, but it's up to you if you want to believe it."

"I don't care," I said, my voice breaking and betraying me, "If he doesn't care enough to come when I need him, why should I care about him? I have you, I have Grandma and Grandpa, I have Luke, I have almost everybody in this town... I'll be just fine without him."

I didn't believe myself, as evidenced by the tears streaming down my face, but I knew that I wasn't strong enough to deal with him and the fact that he didn't care right now, so I was going to pretend that I didn't care either, and hope it was enough. Fake it 'til you make it, right?

"Rory..." She was sad, "You just said you need him. If you need him..."

"I need him to be here, and he's not. And if he can't care enough to be here, then I don't have the energy or the will to care about that," I snapped, my heart breaking in two. She looked at me like she wanted to argue it further - she had always had the mentality that I needed my father even though he was never here – but she sighed and nodded.

"Okay," She smiled sadly, "Bible Boy left his number; do you want to call him? It'll get your mind off of it."

I nodded, surprising myself, "He doesn't call me Mary anymore; I asked him not to, so I don't think 'Bible Boy' applies at this point."

"Rory, what Dean did to you... That wasn't your fault. You know that, right?" She asked, and I hesitated.

"It's not that. I mean, it kind of is, but it's more to do with what Dean said," I told her; I hadn't given her that little detail yet, and my hands started shaking as I told her, "When he did it, just before it ended, he said that I wasn't a Mary anymore and every time Tristan called me that, it made me think of that. He knows about Dean, he figured it out himself; apparently, his sister went through something similar, and she ended up killing herself, so he's watching out for me."

I didn't know why I told her that part, but I did. The sad, pity look on her face got worse, but she handed me the number, keeping her words to herself while I was in earshot. But when I took the phone into my room and shut the door, I could have sworn that I heard her crying.

I dialled Tristan's number and hoped that he would answer since I didn't have the patience for other people today. Unfortunately, I didn't have that luck.

"Could I speak to Tristan, please?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. They asked who was calling, so I gave them my name. Then the line went quiet for a long moment before Tristan came on.

"Hey Rory," He said, "How are you?"

"Tired of that question," I told him honestly, and he laughed. Before he could ask again, because I knew he would, I responded, "No better and no worse than yesterday, so that's something."

"It's something," He agreed, "Have you been crying?"

I hesitated before telling him, "My dad won't come and see me. He said he's on a business trip but what business trip lasts 3 weeks? And what business trip is extended past that point, because he's decided to extend that... I told my mom that I didn't care because he clearly doesn't, but I do care. I mean, of course I care, he's supposed to be my dad and dads are supposed to be there when their kid is in the hospital, but given that he never shows anyway, I'm pretty used to getting by without him. I feel like I need him, but I don't."

"Can I do anything to help?" He asked, and I shook my head even though he couldn't see me.

"I think I needed to rant, so you listening was enough," I sighed, "Wait, you called me first. Did you need something? I've made this all about me."

He laughed, "I just wanted to check in, make sure you were coping as well as possible. But now you mention it, could you help me with the history homework, I'm a bit stuck."

"Are you trying to sound stupid to make me feel better?" I asked, and he scoffed.

"No, my ego is far too big to make that type of sacrifice," He said, and I believed it, even though I was taking it with a grain of salt.

"Okay, I'll help you," I conceded, grabbing the homework from the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I just want to add something; this is not my story. I wrote this story, but this isn't me sharing my personal rape story. My personal rape story was much different to this and even though this story was part of my personal therapy since I find writing therapeutic, the writing itself has to be far enough away from the real thing for that to work. I got a message asking if any of this is true, so I thought I'd answer it here so I shouldn't have to repeat it. I hope you keep reviewing and everything, as it really makes me feel good, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Oh, and have a good weekend.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: As I re-read this, I realise how much I cut out because it didn't fit into the flow of things or it didn't read well, and even though I deleted those scenes, they still seemed to happen in my head, which is funny because I now have no idea what was supposed to fit where, so if something doesn't make sense, please ask and I'll either try to rectify it or explain what I think happened in my head. 

The next few weeks passed in a blur of schoolwork and therapy. I had buried myself in it, trying to catch up on what I had missed at school and trying to get better. I wasn't sleeping well, and the looks I was getting from people around town were really getting to me. However, I had managed to walk into the diner and bookstore, I had stood outside of the market while Mom got what we needed, and I managed drinks with my grandparents before it becoming too much.

I was also trying to distract from the fact my period never came, and I was usually like clockwork. But this morning, I had been sick before my first class, so I was now stood outside of Doose's, trying to convince myself to go in and buy a pregnancy test. Mom had offered to do it for me, but it felt like something that I needed to do for myself, something my new therapist had encouraged and asked Mom to respect this.

I knew Mom was watching me from Luke's, and he had joined her. They were dating, trying to keep it out of my eyeline, but I didn't mind him being around. He was the one that found me on that night, and in a way, he made me feel safe, or as safe as possible.

"Hey," Lane said carefully, greeting me as she walked up, "I'm sorry I haven't been around, my mom wanted me to keep my distance, said that it wouldn't help you. And I don't know what to say."

"No one does," I told her, "But you're welcome anytime. I promise."

"Thanks," She said, smiling sadly, "I've got to go; bible study. My mom's been praying for you, though, if that helps."

"It does," I told her, the warmth spreading through my chest, "Tell her 'thank you.'"

Lane nodded and walked over to her own house, and I finally got up the courage to go in. I walked straight over to that section, keeping my eyes down, and grabbed three different pregnancy tests. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears filled them, sniffling slightly. I couldn't believe that I was doing this, but I knew it needed to happen.

I walked up to the tills, slightly disappointed that there was only one open and it was one of the bigger blabber-mouths in this town. But I swallowed loudly and got on with it. She scanned the three items quietly, avoiding my face. I paid her and shoved the boxes into my bag. As I walked away, she spoke up, "I won't tell anyone – you deserve to have your privacy in a time like this."

"Thank you," I said simply before walking out.

* * *

_Well, that answers that_ , I thought bitterly, my stomach churning. I dashed into the bathroom, emptying the contents of my stomach – that wasn't morning sickness that time, that was feeling sick because I was carrying my rapist's baby.

I heard my mom's footsteps, and she was suddenly rubbing my back and telling me that it was going to be alright, but I didn't believe her. How could things be okay? When I was finished, she helped me up and sat me on the lid, brushing away my tears with her thumb but ignoring her own, "I will stand by you no matter what you decide. And no matter what, it will be okay. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day, it'll be okay."

"I can't do this," I told her, hoping that she would believe me, "I'm not strong enough."

"Yes, you are," She told me sternly, "You just don't know it yet."

She then wrapped her arms around me and held me while we cried, slightly rocking me.

* * *

As I opened my locker the next morning, I internally swore – I could only have one 8-ounce cup of coffee per day, and I had to badger Luke into letting me have it. And now, a cup of steaming coffee sat in my locker, because Tristan had a habit of sneaking that in.

He appeared at my side, and frowned, "What's wrong?"

"I can't drink that," I said very quietly. He furrowed his brow, confused, so I elaborated a bit, "It's not safe."

It took him a minute, but a look of realisation came over his face, "When did you find out?"

"Last night," I said, "I would have called you, but I was a mess."

"How do we feel about this?" He asked carefully, unsure of how to react.

I sighed, "I'm keeping it, at least until it's born. But I don't... I don't know how I feel about this."

"Okay," He said, "I can work with that. Want me to walk you to class?"

I agreed, and we walked together, with him leaving me at the door to go to his own class. However, Paris met me, "How are you feeling?"

"Sick," I told her honestly with a tiny smile. She narrowed her eyes at me trying to figure out why I was smiling, but I left her to try and figure it out, sitting in my seat – I didn't want her to know, but it couldn't do any harm, either, since it was Paris. The class went quickly considering I was all caught up, and when he handed out the most recent test, I noticed that my grade hadn't suffered from my absence, which made me a little proud.

I ended up being excused about 10 minutes before the bell went because I was going to be sick, but easily re-joined Paris as the bell went – I was just grateful I had packed a toothbrush and toothpaste. She had managed to shake her lackeys and pulled me aside and out of earshot from others, "Morning sickness?"

"Gold star for Paris," I muttered sarcastically, "I'm six weeks... no, it's eight because they count it from the first day of your last period, so it's pretty normal."

"What is your plan?" She asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"I don't have one. I've known for less than a day, and I didn't get this way by choice, so I don't have a plan. Right now, I plan on getting through today, and that is that."

I didn't mean to have a go at her, but that's what happened. Luckily, she didn't take it personally, "Well, when you do have a plan, I would like to be in the know since Tristan can't exactly come into the girl's bathroom and I'm better than anyone else. You know, if you're comfortable with that."

"Not right now, but I'm sure we can get there by the time I'm due," I told her kindly, "Come on, Tristan is probably worried out of his mind by now."

* * *

When me and Mom got home from school, we found Christopher sitting on the porch.

"You're six weeks too late," I told him angrily, slamming the car door and storming past him. I had been hurt and upset about his absence, but seeing him now... it just made me angry. But that could also be hormones or caffeine withdrawal.

"Rory, I had to work," He said, trying to justify it. I scoffed, shocked that he'd try to justify it.

"Six weeks!" I shouted, turning back to face him, "I'd understand a week, maybe two, but six weeks?"

I paused, roughly wiping my cheeks, and he took the opportunity to jump in, "I'm here now, isn't that good enough?"

"No, it's not," I told him, opening the front door as Mom silently walked past him, just as angry as I was, "Go to hell."

I stormed inside, blindly aiming for the freezer; I needed ice-cream. Mom was quiet for a long minute, standing out on the porch. And then she came in and shut the door, finding me and wrapping her arms around me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Quick question, do you think Rory overreacted? To me, this is totally reasonable but I never had a second parent so I can't answer that. I know in the show, she's generally quite forgiving of Christopher but with what happened... I can't imagine that anything would excuse his absence unless he was in hospital himself.


	6. Chapter 6

I didn't want anyone else to find out about my pregnancy for the time being; the people who needed to know knew - like Mom, Luke, my therapist, the police, and Tristan - and if anyone figured it out – like Paris did - then they could be included, but until then, no one was to know until I was at least 12 weeks.

Christopher had stuck around for a few days but had vanished when I showed no sign of changing my mind about my feelings towards him, as expected. Mom dating Luke was likely a contributing factor to him leaving, given that he always tried it on with her whenever he was around, but I couldn't be sure this time. I had thought of telling him about the baby, but since I didn't have a plan yet, I didn't want to.

I was also considering reaching out to Dean's family once I was 12 weeks to tell them since this is his baby, but I didn't want to. I just didn't know of... the proper etiquette, I guess. Usually, I'd feel that it was the right thing to do, but given how this baby was conceived, I didn't know whether I should. Mom said I shouldn't, and Luke thinks I'm insane for even thinking about it, but I don't feel quite sure. It's almost like I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't.

"What if the food tastes disgusting?" I asked Mom, "I don't have the ability to pretend like that."

Most foods had been risky, and I even had a dislike for coffee at the moment, to the point it was making me sick, which was rather disappointing – I was enjoying my 8 ounces of coffee per day, but that had gone out the window.

"We'll figure it out," She said, "We might just need to tell them earlier than planned."

"I could still miscarry, there's like a 30% chance of that," I reminded her, and she sighed as we pulled in.

"Rory, just go with it. My mother is smart, and she may figure it out," She reminded me, "Your boobs are bigger, you're more irritable and –"

I cut her off, "You'd be irritable too if you stopped being able to stomach coffee."

She just rose her eyebrows at me, and I apologised, blushing. We both got out of the car, and she smiled at me, "It'll be okay, no matter what happens tonight or with the pregnancy. I promise."

"You keep saying that," I pointed out, "When will it be okay? Because this... this feels like it could go on forever."

"I don't have the answer for that, but it will be okay one day," She said, giving me a quick hug before ringing the doorbell. The new maid let us in and took our coats, and Grandma joined us.

She narrowed her eyes at me but acted like normal, "Richard is just finishing up in his office. How has your week been?"

"Long," I told her with a chuckle, "Christopher came to see us."

"I heard. I also heard that you told him to go to hell," She said, not even mentioning the fact that I used his name. It was probably supposed to be a rebuke, but there was no anger in her voice, only concern, "I thought..."

"He was six weeks late," I reminded her, "I'd like to know that if I really needed him, he would be there. And he wasn't there – I mean, what if I was dying, because I'm pretty certain Mom wouldn't tell him I was dying over the phone. If I'm not one of his priorities, why should I waste my time and energy on him?"

She tilted her head at me, almost curiously, "But you need a father."

That comment made me feel sick. Not because of the statement itself, but because of what that implied. She had accidentally implied that my baby needed a father, which meant I would need to let Dean into my life, and that was not okay. And somehow, my decision was made for me; I wasn't telling him or his family, because even though his parents might deserve that, my baby came first.

"Rory?"

I looked at Mom, her face a picture of concern, and then I looked back at my grandmother, "I'm pregnant."

Her jaw dropped and then she launched into an apology, "Rory, that's not what I meant. You and Christopher are in a completely different situation to you and your baby, and while your baby still deserves two parents, they deserve better than the man who did this to you."

"Mom raised me alone. Christopher was never there, and he only came when he needed something, and I turned out just fine. My baby will be perfectly fine without a father," I told her sternly ad Grandpa came out of his study.

"You're pregnant?" He questioned, surprised. I nodded, and he went to say something and then paused, "I don't know if I'm supposed to say congratulations or not."

"I don't have an answer to that," I admitted.

We had drinks and dinner despite the tense air, and we were halfway home before I said anything without being spoken to, "It gets more real every time I say it."

* * *

Early the next morning, I found myself sat on the Gazebo steps. I had woken up and felt like I was suffocating, so I got out of the house, even though it was still dark given that Christmas was in a week. I did leave a note first.

Luke's was open but packed, and people were wandering around, doing their own stuff. A few people gave me a second glance like Taylor, but they had left me alone. I took in a deep breath and then stood up, deciding to go for a wander. I took a slow walk down to the lake, sitting down on the bridge, my shoes brushing the water.

The sky was already orange, but the sun hadn't been in view until that point. And as the sun rose, tears streamed down my face. I don't think I'd describe it as a sudden moment where I knew what I was doing, but I suddenly knew, for definite, that no matter what happened or what I decided to do with this baby, I'd be okay in the end. And that would have to be good enough until then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This sunrise thing is actually a personal thing for me (and sunsets don't work the same way), which was inspired by the book 'Clean' by Juno Dawson, which is about drug addiction. Hey, is it weird that I like reading and writing about miserable topics but I'm generally a positive person? Anyway, please review and I'll see you next week.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Just to let you know, I'm working on 4 Gilmore Girls stories currently - two are halfway done (and neither of them have a name) and the other two are still in their early stages. Once these are done (and are starting to be published), I'm thinking about moving over to Harry Potter or Grey's Anatomy, but we've got time until then. Either way, I thought I'd tell you that I'm working on new stuff (and one of the halfway done stories is actually quite light for me), and I'll tell you when they're being uploaded.

"Hey!" Tristan complained as I stole the apple off of his tray, "I was looking forward to that."

"Oh well," I said, biting into it. Since that morning on the bridge, I had felt a lot better in myself. That isn't to say that I was better, because that was a long way away, but I felt better compared to the way I felt before, and while that wasn't saying much, it was still good. Christmas had been and gone, with not even a card from my father for Christmas, which proved my point to Mom, and we had just come back after the two-week break.

"When is your appointment?" He asked, and I sighed. I was dreading it; while it was feeling more real, I was expecting it to be the final nail in the coffin, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that. However, it was something I needed to do to make sure that the baby was healthy and developing correctly.

"Friday, after school," I told him, placing a hand on my stomach for a brief moment. I had a tiny bump, which was apparently normal, according to Mom, and my boobs had basically exploded. My body was changing in more ways than one, and it was quite strange. A few people had mentioned that I was glowing; the rumour was that Tristan had finally de-flowered me (their words, not mine) and I actually preferred it over the truth.

"If you want any support from me, I'll do what I can for you," He told me, and I smiled at him.

"You carrying my very heavy bag at the beginning and end of the school day is currently enough for me," I said honestly, "I will ask if I need anything."

"No, you won't," He said with a roll of his eyes, and I smiled sadly.

"I will for the baby," I murmured softly, keeping my voice down. And that was the truth – I could ask for help without shame when it came to the baby, but when it came to me... I couldn't do it.

"So why won't you do it for yourself?" He asked, and I shrugged, unsure.

I knew he was about to press me for more information, but Paris dropped into the seat next to Tristan, "How are things?"

"Things are good," I told her, knowing she was referring to the baby. She nodded.

"The main rumours for your glow are the fact that you and Tristan had sex, but Cissy thinks you're pregnant – her older sister had a baby last year, so she's recognised the look. Thought I'd let you know; I've never said this before, but thank God that I'm friends with Madeline and Louise because I'd know none of this without them."

She then got up and walked off, re-joining her lackeys, who had been staring at us trying to figure it out. I turned to Tristan, "I'll tell the school nurse once I've finished this."

"You still haven't done that?" He asked, shocked. I rolled my eyes, and he shook his head, "For someone who likes rules and organisation, you're also a master at procrastinating."

"I learnt from the best," I told him, referring to my mother, "And I'm not even close to as good as she is."

He chuckled, "Why am I not surprised?"

"Oi!"

* * *

He walked me to Mom's car after school, delivering me safely. He had become very protective of me but had also become one of my favourite people. While he hadn't been through what I had been through, he knew something about it. I loved Lane, I did, but she didn't get it like he did, and it was the same with my mom.

"Tell her," He murmured in my ear, and I inwardly rolled my eyes.

"I got through the whole school day without a panic attack," I told her, feeling a little proud. I wasn't sure if it was a fluke or a real sign of improvement, but it was something to be proud of.

She hugged me hard, "I'm so proud of you. I'll buy you a book after therapy if you'd like."

"Well, I'd never say no to that," I told her, climbing into the jeep. I saw her say something very quietly to him, making his ears turn red in the way they do when he's nervous or embarrassed, and then she got into the car as he walked off, "What did you say to him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," She lied and I rolled my eyes; I'll get it out of her eventually.

* * *

After therapy, I decided I was going to put off book shopping until tomorrow. Therapy left me mentally and emotionally drained, and I wanted to be enthusiastic about the book I was buying. So instead, we headed to Luke's for dinner. I had chilli fries and a milkshake while Mom had a burger and coffee – she had thought about quitting with me, but there was no way I was going to let her put me through that – and we talked about nothing in general for a while.

"How do you feel about Tristan?" She asked randomly, and I looked up at her, confused.

"He's a friend," I told her, "You know this."

She rolled her eyes at me, "He has this gigantic crush on you, you must know this."

"I'm not convinced," I said, "I was a giant conquest to him before the dance, and he's been friendly since. He's probably over trying to get me now since..."

I trailed off, pushing my plate away. Even if he didn't view me as damaged, there was no way he could want me now. He had practically seen me at my worst, and between the _incident_ and the baby, there was no way I was desirable now, even if I was interested.

"You're not less of a person for your current situation, and even if his feelings have changed, he's still got a crush on you. It might just be a bit different now," Mom said, pulling my plate towards her and finishing what was left on the plate.

"I don't know," I told her, placing a hand on my tiny bump, "The whole school either thinks I'm pregnant or sleeping with Tristan. They seem to be under the impression that it can't be both."

She coughed a couple of times, surprised, "You're definitely my kid, but I wouldn't recommend pointing that out. That's just asking for trouble."

"It's funny, though," I said, smiling at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I hope you love this chapter, please review (with constructive criticism) and have a good weekend.


	8. Chapter 8

"You're still in your uniform," Grandma said as we stepped in, skipping the 'hello'.

"I didn't have time to change between my appointment and dinner, I hope you don't mind," I told her nervously.

She smiled, "Oh, I forgot that your scan was today; I knew I forgot something. Do you have a picture I can see?"

I pulled them out of my bag, "I brought you one to keep, I thought you and Grandpa might like that. Mom has one, too, and of course, I've got one."

"Richard," She called, and I could see her excitement. He came out of his study, confused, so she explained, "Do you want to see a picture of your future great-grandchild?"

His eyes lit up, and he rushed over as I passed the picture over. Grandma beamed, "When I was pregnant with Lorelai, they didn't really do ultrasounds. They used them when needed, but they weren't overly common, and when Lorelai was pregnant, it wasn't as good as this. I can even see a small nose."

I wasn't as excited as they were and my chest was tight, but I knew, for sure, that I could do this.

* * *

After my morning shower, I walked out of the bathroom to find Tristan in the kitchen. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head slightly, trying to figure out why he was here.

"You were supposed to call me last night after dinner to tell me about the scan, and when you didn't, I got worried, and then convinced myself I was being irrational and decided if you hadn't called by morning, I was driving down here. Your mom let me in 5 minutes ago and she was on her way to the diner for coffee," He explained, and I guiltily blushed.

"I forgot," I admitted, "I was exhausted, but I completely forgot. I'm sorry."

"So?" He asked, wanting information.

I walked into the bedroom and got out the photo, taking it to Tristan, "So, as you know, they did a blood test last week and at my scan, they did a screening for Down's syndrome, Edward's syndrome or Patau's syndrome – there's a low chance of her having any of them, and remember that they cannot give a definite without doing a more risky procedure."

"I thought they didn't identify the sex until the next scan," He said, confused, "That's great, though."

I nodded, "They don't, it's just an instinct."

"When will you tell the town?" Mom asked, coming through with a bag in her hand, "I had to restrain myself from telling Patty when she asked about you. And I want to put the scan on the fridge, but I can't do that until Sookie and Babette know, given they're most likely to come round."

"What's in the bag?" I asked, and she rolled her eyes, handing it to me.

"So, when will you tell the town?" She asked again as I opened the bag. I pulled out the plastic box and found an omelette in there that was definitely not Mom's idea with the number of veggies in it – thank you, Luke.

"I might just show my bump and let them draw their own conclusions," I told her, turning to Tristan, "Want to share my omelette?"

He said he had eaten, so I got to eating, ignoring my mother's glare. I sighed after a few minutes, "How do you want me to tell them?"

"You could announce it at a town meeting," She suggested, thinking for a second, "You could get Lane to spread the news, you could let me tell people, you could..."

The mention of Lane had me feeling guilty. While we had spoken a little, we had drifted apart from each other during this time. She had wanted to be supportive, but I couldn't be there for her the way she needed me to be. I looked back at Mom sadly, "I think I'll just let the bump show, it's not exactly easy to hide at this point. And if they ask, I'll tell them."

She looked at me funny and then started looking through the mail, seeing what was for who. I turned to Tristan, "What's your plan for today?"

"I don't have one," He said, "Maybe you can show me around town? Unless you have plans."

"No plans for me, except from walking past Miss Patty's in a tight top," I said with a chuckle as Mom chucked a letter at me. I put it on the counter, planning of getting to it later, and cleaned up from my late breakfast, "Let me change and then we'll take a walk."

I walked into my room and shut the door, searching for something tight but warm. After a few moments, I found something suitable and changed, grabbing a coat that I probably wouldn't wear. I joined Tristan, who was ready to go and turned to Mom, "Go to the inn and tell Sookie about the baby. She'll be so excited."

"Don't you want to be there for that?" She asked curiously, and I shook my head.

"I don't think I'm ready to be that excited," I told her honestly.

We started with Miss Patty, who saw us coming a mile away. As we approached, I slipped my hand into Tristan's, the nerves getting to me – last time I had been anywhere near here, it was that night. I felt him look at me, but luckily, he didn't question it.

"Rory, you're..." She stopped, her eyes looking me over. When her eyes met mine, I nodded. Her shoulders sunk a little, guilt in her eyes, "I want to say I'm sorry and congratulations all at once."

"It's okay, Miss Patty. I don't blame you," I promised.

"I left the doors unlocked, and maybe it would have happened anyway, but I left the doors unlocked," She said, her voice wavering.

"But if it happened somewhere else, like at the lake, no one would have heard me screaming, and it could have been so much worse. So, isn't it better that it was here?" I asked. I had gone over this in my head multiple times, and while I had never blamed her, I had wondered if the doors had been locked, maybe it wouldn't have happened. But there's no way of finding out.

She nodded, "When are you due?"

"August seventh, so I shouldn't miss much school," I told her, even though I didn't have a plan for that.

"And is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all."

"There is one thing you can do," I told her, "You can spread the word for me. Saves me a job, and it means everyone can get their heads steady before I have to deal with it. And Patty; while I hate the circumstances of my pregnancy and I have no idea what the plan is, I know this baby will be loved. And I hope this is a good thing because I really need some good right now."

She smiled kindly at me and returned to her class, and we walked on. Once we were out of earshot, I turned to Tristan, "You got off lucky; if she had noticed you, she would have been all over you. But apparently, the bump is a perfect distraction."

"And what would she do?" He asked, curious.

"Depends on the day," I told her, "The trick is to never agree to do anything with her because then that's all she'll ever want from you."

"Good to know," He said, "So, where to next?"


	9. Chapter 9

I heard her coming, but didn't look up from my book as she stepped into my eyeline, "When is it due?"

"Hello to you, too, Paris," I muttered, rolling my eyes, "August 7th, so I shouldn't miss too much school."

She furrowed her brow, "You're planning of continuing your education?"

"I don't even know whether I'm keeping it or not, yet," I told her quietly with a sigh, "But between my grandparents, my mom and my town, I should be able to figure something out."

She joined me on the floor and I shut my book, looking at her. She smiled, "Are you taking your vitamins?"

"Yes, and I'm eating really well," I told her with a small smile; while Mom wasn't forcing anything, she was encouraging it. However, Luke was making sure I had everything I needed and Tristan would only share unhealthy food with me if I ate something healthy first.

"Are you taking birth and parenting classes?" She then asked and I inwardly rolled my eyes.

"I've registered for an antenatal class but that doesn't start until I'm 24 weeks. It covers birth and basic parenting, so it's the best of both worlds," I told her, which was the truth. It was once a week and lasted 12 weeks, and it was mostly mothers only with the occasional partner for certain lessons.

"Where's Tristan?" She asked and I laughed.

"Lunchtime detention for walking out of class when I had a panic attack; apparently, that's not okay," I told her, and she chuckled under her breath.

"He really likes you," She said, "I know I've had my eye on him for years and he's not interested, but he likes you a lot. Or have you not noticed the lack of bimbos?"

"I don't know, I'm pretty undesirable right now," I said, "He has held my hair back while I was being sick, he has dealt with my panic attacks, he has seen the scars from my surgeries... and he knows what happened. I didn't even have to tell him. How could he still want me?"

"You're blind as a bat," She said with a chuckle, "None of this was your fault or your choice. And after watching his sister go through this, it's probably not that big of a thing. Well, it's still big but it's not disgusting. He's completely in love with you, and even if you're not ready for that type of thing, use it as a reminder that you can still be loved. And don't break his heart, because I will hunt you down."

I laughed at her, but I believed that last bit.

* * *

When I got home, I pressed play on the machine, letting it run through. There was a message for Mom about work and there was a message from Christopher.

"Hey Rory... I know you're still mad at me about everything, but I need to know that you're okay. Your grandparents called and told me that I needed to fix things, so I'm trying. Please call me back."

Mom looked at me, "Might be a good idea to at least tell him how you feel."

I sighed and picked up the phone, dialling his number. When he picked up, I dived right in, not letting him say a word, "You might be my father, but you're not a dad. You're not there when I need you and right now, I need people who are going to be there when I call them. And I need to be able to trust you, and I can't do that."

"Let me try," He begged and I shook my head.

"I'm pregnant. I'm having my rapist's baby, so I don't have the energy or the time to give you another chance to break my heart. I can't do it," I was crying again, but I ignored the tears.

"I'm going to be a grandpa?" He asked and I just wanted to punch him.

"That's what you took from that?" I questioned angrily in response, "You have spent 16 years making promises and never following through; you don't get to do that to me anymore, and if I do keep the child, you won't get the chance to do it to them."

"Rory, please," He pleaded.

"Please don't call us again, please don't come and see us or write us letters. Please leave us alone," I said before hanging up the phone, my already broken heart breaking again. I looked at Mom, who just stared back. We were quiet for a long moment, and then she spoke.

"Are you sure about this?" She questioned.

"I am," I said, wiping away my tears, "He's never here anyway and he only shows up when it benefits him, and then he messes everything up. I'm always going to want him because he is still my father, but it's not worth it. I have you and Luke, I have Sookie and this town, I have Grandma and Grandpa, and I have Tristan, Lane and Paris... I don't need him."

She closed her eyes for a second, a tear leaking out, and then looked back at me, "You're right. As always, you're right."

* * *

"Hey," I heard Lane say, and I looked up, "It's been a while."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself about the baby... I couldn't take saying it over and over," I said almost immediately, "I'm sorry that I've been so distant."

She sat down next to me, "I'm not mad. I was hurt, but I get it; you went through something horrific and no one in this town can understand what you're going through. Do you want to talk?"

"I am happy to talk about the baby and about general things, but please don't ask me to talk about that night," I told her and she smiled.

"If I'm being honest, I don't think I want to know about that night..." She trailed off guiltily, but recovered instantly, "But I do want to hear about that baby of yours."

"She's healthy – I think it's a girl but we don't know for definite until my next scan – and she's the size of a lemon," I told her, "I haven't decided what I'm doing with her yet, whether I'm going to raise her myself or give her up for adoption, but I want her to be as healthy as possible."

"What's it like, being pregnant?" She asked curiously.

"Honestly? I miss caffeine," I told her and she laughed, "No, I can't even stand the smell of coffee, let alone the taste. It is disgusting."

"Are you even a Gilmore?" She questioned teasingly and I lightly shoved her, laughing.

 _I've missed you_ , I thought as we continued our easy conversation.


	10. Chapter 10

We arrived at the town meeting early, giving me time to convince myself to go in.

It had been 13 weeks since my rape, and between the fact that it was held at Miss Patty's and the whole town would be there, I hadn't been able to convince myself to go. But it was starting to get harder, so I knew that I needed to go.

It had taken 5 minutes to get up the courage, but I convinced myself to get in there. Luke was already in there, waiting for me and Mom, and Sookie joined us a few moments later. It was the first time she had seen me since she had heard the news and she smiled kindly at me, "Congratulations."

"Thank you, Sookie," I said, grateful that she wasn't sharing her excitement.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Hungry," I said, "The morning sickness has mostly gone and I'm now permanently starving. The midwife said it was normal at my 12-week scan. I have snacks in my bag all the time – I'm only waiting because it's been too long since I annoyed Taylor."

"What have you got in there?" Mom asked, "I didn't see."

"Carrots," I told her as I saw a few people staring at me. I looked down, sitting back in my seat. Luckily, Taylor came in and started the meeting, but not before smiling at me in acknowledgement.

He droned on for a few minutes before I pulled my carrots out, taking a bite. He spotted me immediately, "Rory! No food in town meetings, you know the rules."

I swallowed before responding, "I'm pregnant so I can eat whenever I damn like."

He blushed and returned to the meeting without saying a word, and I ended up nudging Mom because she was laughing so much; luckily, it was silent. When she calmed down, she turned to me and whispered, "How long have you been hanging onto that one?"

* * *

"What are you doing for Valentine's day?" Tristan suddenly asked me, and I looked at him, confused.

"Have you been paying any attention to my life?" I asked in return, and he laughed.

"You have a point," He admitted, "I wondered if you wanted to do something with me. Not necessarily in a romantic way, but just something with me."

"Well, Mom has plans with Luke but he doesn't know it yet, so I am technically free," I paused, the sudden burst of spontaneity causing my chest to tighten, "I don't know how to do this. I don't..."

He quickly led me into an empty classroom, knowing the signs of a panic attack, "Rory, just breathe. Forget it for a moment, just breathe."

His hands were on mine and he just stood there, waiting for me to calm down. Once I had brought myself out of it, a wave of shame flooded me – I trust Tristan, I know he wouldn't hurt me like that, so why did I panic?

_Because you trusted Dean, too._

The little voice in my head was right, but I had known Tristan for months, compared to the month I had known Dean for. He usually respected my wishes, except when I was trying to eat junk, and he knew about my past. And I certainly can't start to distrust my instincts because I made one mistake; there was a reason I didn't tell Mom about Dean but I couldn't put it into words. Maybe that was it, but I was unsure.

"Rory, talk to me," Tristan said softly.

I looked up at him with watery eyes, "I trusted Dean and he did this to me. I trust you and I know you wouldn't purposely hurt me, but..."

"You're scared," He finished. I expected him to take offence to my words, but instead, he wiped away my tears and said, "That's okay. If you want to go out with me, we'll take it slow. You can plan the whole thing if it would make you feel better and nothing will happen without your verbal say-so. I promise. If you don't want to, that's fine, too."

"I want to," I admitted. I knew he had feelings for me (because of Mom and Paris) and I couldn't deny that I had thought of it, but because I didn't know whether it was my hormones or not, I had ignored it. But since those feelings hadn't changed in any way or any form, I thought I'd give it a go.

* * *

After a lot of thought, we decided to have lunch at the inn. It was nice enough, it was pretty public and I knew the staff well enough to know I was safe. My mother approved of it and said it was a good choice, but I think she was just glad I was staying in Stars Hollow and someone could keep an eye on me.

He picked me up from the house and we decided we'd walk to the inn, falling into easy conversation. He was film-obsessed so we were debating book-to-movie adaptions and which ones were the worst, giggling as our reasonings got more ridiculous.

"I'm being watched," He said and I turned around to see Kirk turn his back.

I rolled my eyes, "That's Kirk. Don't worry about him."

"That's the guy that has had every job in Stars Hollow, right?"

"Not quite," I said, "But he's getting there. He takes all the odd jobs, and then someone has to fix what he did – Mom won't let him near the inn and he's never worked at Luke's."

"Is that it?" He asked and I nodded, "How long does he keep a job for?"

"It depends," I told him as we entered the inn, letting Michel know we were there before heading straight to the table I had booked; it paid to be the boss' daughter.

"I like this place," He said, "It feels warm and inviting – a lot of the top restaurants fail to do that."

"You haven't even tried the food yet," I said, picking up the menu to see what she was serving today.

"Any recommendations?" He asked and I nodded.

"Sookie's magic risotto," I told him firmly, "That's what I'm having."

He furrowed his brow, "Isn't risotto usually cooked with wine?"

"Alcohol evaporates when you cook it, the wine is just for flavouring. And since I was practically brought up on this risotto, I'd hope it's fine," I said, "I did double-check with the midwife right at the beginning, though."

He smiled at me, relieved, "Good."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I write my ANs, I jot down the first thoughts in my head, glance at the first few lines and I may make a comment on how much I love a chapter. And then I read the chapter and actually comment on my thoughts, which are mostly unrelated. Unless you count me singing 'here comes the sun' when I read the sunrise scene related. Anyway, review and leave constructive criticism. It might help my next story.


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